


Gravitational Pull

by Baph, ScribblesInTheMargins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 18OI AU Week 2020 (Yuri!!! on Ice), 18OI AU Week 2020: Day 5, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Compliant, Illustrated, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, contains art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baph/pseuds/Baph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblesInTheMargins/pseuds/ScribblesInTheMargins
Summary: Soulmates are nothing more than a fairy tale.It was true, and everyone knew Russian fairy tales never had a happy ending.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 17
Kudos: 61
Collections: 18OI AU Week 2020





	Gravitational Pull

**Author's Note:**

> This is Day five of the 18+ on ice Discord's AU event. [Server Link](https://discord.gg/TYMxcAB)
> 
> If you're new to my writing, I hope you like these little stories, and I especially hope you enjoy the art Baph did for this piece.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always loved

_Soulmates are nothing more than a fairy tale._

_It was true, and everyone knew Russian fairy tales never had a happy ending._

**When Yuri was 10**

Yakov's skating camp was exhausting. Yuri had never had to do as much ballet as he did for this camp. It was important though. His grandfather had retired due to his back, so all they had now was a state pension and whatever meager support his mother was able to send, and that did not leave a lot of room for skating lessons.

This afternoon at camp was a skating day, and he had been looking forward to this all week. Even if his skates were scuffed and old, they were enough. He knew to ignore the looks from the other kids. It didn't matter that he had taken black polish to his skates, covering the white. It didn't change how well they worked. He had skates and he had something none of these other kids had--determination. Once on the ice, he stood straighter, listening to Yakov Feltsman as the man explained what they were going to do. Then, Yakov's top student skated onto the ice.

It hadn't been long ago that Victor had cut his hair, but even with the much shorter style, Victor Nikiforov still looked like a figure from some otherworldly tale of supernatural spirits that lure you to your demise. For a moment, Yuri forgot to breathe, looking at the other man in person for the first time. He watched as that man moved through the motions of a beautiful double axel. Then he did it again, as Yakov kept lecturing the class. 

Yuri's eyes locked onto Victor, his heart throbbing in his chest. The strangest feeling passed over him, every move the man made was in slow motion in Yuri’s eyes. Colors were clearer, the blue of the man's eyes so intense.

Yuri's name was called first, and he skated forward, eyes still locked on Victor. The scent of the ice filled his senses as he watched that man do one last double axel. Focused now, Yuri skated to build up speed, trying to ignore how the world had suddenly fallen into perfect clarity. His head held high, his messy hair blowing back in the wind as he shifted to his outer edge and then launched himself in the air, legs and arms tight until he reached out, stretching his free leg on his landing to swing and balance. He'd done so many single axels, and all of his other jumps were double, but this -- this was his first double axel and he knew he had perfectly mimicked Victor's.

Then he heard it, the laughter, that joyous laughter as Victor smiled, "Good job! See Yakov, you do get good students now." Still smiling, Victor moved to the boards, grabbing his water bottle as Yuri stood there, unable to do anything but watch the man. He wanted to follow. At that moment, he realized … he'd found his soulmate, and he could not tell anyone -- especially Victor Nikiforov.

  
  


**When Yuri was 13**

He'd risen through the skating ranks to Juniors, and now he was at some little competition at a rink in Krasnoyarsk. Victor was here, somewhere. Yuri assumed Victor was not at the rink today, with just juniors competing. He hated so many things about this program. No, that wasn't true. He hated his clothes and he hated his hair. However, Yakov insisted that his skaters not look like an 'unkempt wild child' -- and that was how he had ended up with this horrible bowl cut. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was going to obliterate those other skaters and cement his position going into the Junior Grand Prix series. He was going to win.

As he skated onto the ice, his eyes went over the judges,They looked bored. If he had been having to judge the juniors that had skated before him, he'd be bored too. His lips slipped into a smirk as his music started, they wouldn't be bored after him. Everything had perfect clarity. He could see the judges and the audience. He saw Yakov frowning, but Yakov always was frowning. As he spun, he did everything he could to make the difficulty of the spins harder. Instead of twos and threes, he was going for threes and fours. Then, his final jump was meant to be a triple Salchow. It was an ambitious jump for a thirteen-year-old.

The world was too colorful, too bright, too intense for him to let himself stop at that though and he went for it, his back inside edge clear as he launched, arms tight and his rotation fast. It was a close call, but four rotations and a slightly shaky landing on his back outside edge, his leg whipped around as he continued the program, the look of victory clear. No one else had tried a quad. No one else had succeeded. 

His heart was still racing as he reached the kiss and cry where Yakov kept yelling. Yes, he wasn't supposed to do a quad, and no he didn't need to do one to win this competition -- but with the colors and the sounds so intense, careful had left him. Then he saw Victor. Standing above him, leaning on the metal railing, perfectly silhouetted by the arena lights, and for a moment Yuri couldn't think. Every sense was focused on Victor and how close the man was.

Victor was talking to him. Victor was smiling at him. Victor was noticing him. He stood up, not even knowing what he was saying -- and then Victor promised him something Yuri had never even dreamed of. The promise of Victor choreographing his senior debut. He needed that. He would promise anything. He needed that more than he needed to breathe. The logical reasons didn't even occur to him. That it would near guarantee a successful senior debut and the money that would come with that, money so desperately needed by his family was secondary to Victor noticing him.

All he could think of was having Victor working with him. He reached up, shaking hands the world focused only on that man. His bare hand was clearly so much smaller as Victor's fingers wrapped around it. Flesh to flesh, a handshake, and Yuri's entire world stopped -- but Victor didn't notice.

**When Yuri was 15**

The season was over. He'd won Junior Worlds and next season would be his debut for Seniors -- choreographed by _the_ Victor Nikiforov. All the drunken mess at the Grand Prix was forgotten as he pulled up his phone, glancing through his social media -- and he stopped, his stomach dropping.

His fingers gripped around his phone, threatening to break the plastic as he narrowed his eyes. Victor was in Japan. Victor had left him. Victor had run off after the other Yuri, the wrong Yuri -- the Yuri that wasn't his soulmate. He threw the phone, not caring, rage and hurt burning through his core as he screamed. This was not what was supposed to happen. For five years, he had held onto his secret. For five years, Victor hadn't noticed him. For five years, every day hurt and at the same time felt amazing.

Tears of frustration escaped his eyes no matter how tightly he closed them. He was left with only one option. He had to fly to Japan. He was going to fight, even if he knew it was a losing battle. A twenty-seven-year-old man had no interest in a fifteen-year-old, and he knew that. Fuck soulmates. Fuck the entire concept.

How could no one see after he chased down Victor, demanding he fulfill his promise? The choreography was the only promise that Yuri could hold Victor to, the secret had to be kept. No one saw how Yuri was hurting in Hatsetsu. The first slap was that Victor had forgotten him. The second was that Yuri was given Agape. The third -- the third was almost more than he could take.

Only a fool couldn't see it, how Victor watched that Yuri, the wrong Yuri. Everyone could see the way Victor smiled, the way he jumped with joy and followed that other Yuri's every move. Before he even took the ice for the skate-off, Yuri knew what would happen.

He had skated his heart out, the best he could do with that program he didn't understand, that didn't seem to fit him -- that program he hated. It was choreographed by Victor Nikiforov though, and that meant that that program could win.

He stood at the side of the rink, a hand on the wood barrier, knowing his suitcase was already packed and in the office. He watched as the wrong Yuri skated, but he didn't watch the other skater. No, he watched Victor. He saw how Victor watched, how Victor held his breath, and how pure joy radiated from that man -- no, not joy -- love. As the program ended, Yuri closed his eyes. Victor was in love. He knew it would happen someday. Even if late at night sometimes he would tell himself lies that maybe Victor wouldn't find someone -- not until he was older and … even in his dreams he wasn't foolish enough to think that this would work. Seeing the love radiating from Victor though, that was too much. Yuri didn't wait, turning away from the ice to change his clothes and grab his suitcase. He couldn't stay here. His heart was too raw, the pain too recent. He couldn't stay and fight, that would hurt Victor, and that was the one thing he couldn't do.

**When Yuri won**

Agape. Selfless love. The love of a soulmate letting his other half never know, never feel the pain, never feel the guilt -- to let his other half go on with his life with the person that soulmate loved. Even if Victor was never his and never would be his, his family was no longer all he had -- he had friends, he had Yakov and he had Lilia. As he shook, stunned still in the kiss and cry with Lilia and Yakov right there, he realized he also had a world record.

He could do this. He didn't need Victor to be amazing. He could take all of this and win. He could throw himself into training and become even stronger and explore new friendships. He could do this.

Two days later, he stood on the center of the podium. With gold around his neck, the hollow feeling of having Victor so close but yet so far wouldn't leave him. Maybe that was why he didn't smile. The press just assumed he was a bitch. Maybe they were right.

Fifteen years old and Yuri had his gold, but that didn't change his broken heart. He couldn't skip the banquet, even after his display of rebellion in his exhibition. No, with too much eyeliner still but wearing a much nicer black suit, he was at the banquet and congratulated by all the people that didn't know how much he was hurting.

He felt Otabek's hand on his shoulder as he watched a very drunk Victor loudly proclaiming that his boyfriend would need to get a gold at Japanese Nationals -- and then they could get married. He felt Otabek's fingers tighten on his shoulder, but the words the Otabek spoke were lost -- all Yuri could hear was Victor. His soulmate was in the same room as him, he couldn't pull his attention away.

As Victor pulled his boyfriend over to where Yuri and Otabek stood, the man was so drunk and so happy. It was enough to bring just a hint of a smile to Yuri's lips. Yes, he hurt. Everything was so raw, but his soulmate was happy and that mattered for something.

"What do you want, old man?"

"Congratulations Yurio!"

"Not my name, asshole."

"You did such a good job with my program, almost as good as I could have."

"I beat your score, geezer."

"So I'll have to beat yours, Yurio!"

"Still not my name." Otabek's hand never left Yuri's shoulder.

"I came to tell you how proud I am! You were so good out there." Then Victor leaned forward, grabbing Yuri by the shoulders, both hands gripping him and giving Yuri no way to escape. The drunken kiss only took a second, but Yuri knew it destroyed everything.

Victor recoiled back, eyes wide as he stared at Yuri, fear and revulsion plastered on his face.

Time moved in slow motion as every fear that Yuri had come to fruition. He knew it would never be possible. He knew his soulmate would never love him -- no matter how much Yuri loved Victor.

"No …"

"It doesn't change anything."

"You knew?" The shock on Victor's face enough to make Otabek and the other Yuri know something had happened.

"I knew." There was no point in lying.

"How long?" The words were hollow as Victor tried to grasp this, holding onto his boyfriend's hand tightly to ground him. The shock was more than enough to suddenly sober him.

"Since that first camp, when I was ten." Yuri took a step back, moving closer to Otabek -- maybe the man had realized, he wasn't leaving Yuri's side at least.

"You never said anything."

"Of course not. You'll never feel like that. I'm not enough of a sadist to want to hurt both of us." Yuri turned, not knowing where he found the strength as he moved to leave the banquet, Otabek almost a shadow as the other man stayed close.

"All I want Victor is for you to be happy." He knew that the only way that would happen would be for him to leave, walking out of the room and leaving his soulmate standing there -- with the wrong Yuri.

It hurt. Hurt didn't even scratch the surface as he cried like a baby in Otabek's arms behind the hotel. Agape. Selfless love. It hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are looking for me on Social Media:
> 
> Twitter = <https://twitter.com/ScribblesITM>
> 
> Tumbr = <https://scribblesinthemargins.tumblr.com/>


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